[She nods and continues holding tight to him so that he can lead her home. She stays silent the rest of the way aside from the strained, nervous sound of her breathing.]
[Inwardly kicking himself all the way to her home, when the two arrive at her door. He reaches for the key to her house from his pocket, unlocking the door and leading her inside. She needs tea and a soft bed and warm blankets, amongst other things.]
[She's a little surprised when he unlocks the door for her, but then remembers that she'd given him the key a few months before, after Morgana had left. She trusted him with it when she couldn't trust many others.]
All right.
[She lets herself be led to wherever he chooses to take her inside the house.]
[He leads her into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for her and coaxing her to sit down at the table. If she cares to notice, she'll see that all her flower arrangements are in good health and there is a new one, right in the middle of the table itself - a new addition she herself had never made.
Once she's sitting he busies himself with setting up the kettle and getting a cup and saucer out from the cupboard to set it before her.]
[She's kept her eyes on the table, on her hands, on the ground since they entered, but it's the scent of lavender that brings her eyes back up to the middle of the table. She stares at the arrangement, picking apart the meanings that he's chosen. Statice - lasting beauty. One of the brother's favorite flowers, she recalls. Pink roses - admiration and sympathy. Zinnia - in memory of an absent friend. A sprig of lily of the valley - sweetness, humility. She hadn't lied entirely before; her mind is a mess at the moment. But these are all things that she can read as plain as words on paper. She hasn't noticed the hyacinth sitting in a separate vase at the other end of the table just yet, too busy focusing on each of the flowers he's chosen for this particular arrangement.
She doesn't know if she should scream or cry or smash this vase to a million pieces. He would know that she'd be able to see the true meaning behind the decoration, but had he expected her to come back? Was this meant to be left in memorial or for her to see?
She stands up, the chair scraping across the floor in her haste, and both hands brace herself on the table as she glares across the room at him.]
What is this?! Why - why did you put these here?! [She looks from the vase back to him.]
[He'd had his back turned as he'd been reaching for the sugar in the cupboard. The sound of the chair scraped against his ears as did the slap of hands against the wooden table. Immediately he spun around on his heels, staring wide-eyed at her, clearly startled, before he dropped his gaze to the table, visibly paling.
Oh. Right. He'd left those there, hadn't he?]
...It was the best I could do. [He starts off, voice even but quiet. His intention hadn't exactly been for her to see them. They were there mostly for memory's sake.] In lieu of a proper funeral.
[So then it really was meant to be a remembrance. Back home, no one would be left to make her a bouquet to place on her grave, let alone one as thoughtful as this one. Was this really how he'd seen her? He'd said it before in fewer words, but flowers spoke the words that people were unable to say, and only feel in their hearts. It's a lesson that her mother taught her once, one that she used mostly for herself and rarely towards others.
There's nothing more touching that he could possibly do, and she has no idea how to handle it.
She doesn't smash the vase and scream. She only sits back down, slumped over in the chair, and rests her forehead in one hand. This day really is getting to be too much to handle.]
[Worry clearly etches itself onto Edward's brow as he stares at her, chest aching. The strain on Vanessa is clear - she couldn't hide it if she tried. Grabbing the sugar he sets it down, bringing the teacup and saucer over, along with a bit of milk. The tea too, is poured without a word, the teapot set down after he'd done so.
He's not sure what to do or say. All he wants to do is ease her suffering, more than anything.]
If they have offended you, I'll take them away immediately.
[He nods after a moment, resigning himself to a seat at the table as well.]
I apologize...I should have been more considerate of your feelings. [It never crossed his mind that she might've seen them.] There are simply a lot of things I never thought I would have the chance of saying to you ever again.
The last thing I wish to do is overwhelm and stress you further, Vanessa.
[She opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it. She'd never meant to see this after her death, just as she was never supposed to know about her father or brothers, to know the truth behind who had killed her and how cursed her family really had been. Maybe she's not meant to know what he means by that either.]
Then don't tell me. [She finally answers as she picks up her teacup and raises it to her lips.]
[He's stuck then. Caught between giving her the rest she deserves and not putting any further stress on her mind and relieving his own pent up emotions that have been coated in the black casings of grief and regret. He'd cried to his sister, that he had been a fool and never admitted his true feelings to her. Here now, presented with the opportunity, he is unable to do so once again.
A look of torment is quickly hidden away as he forces a smile. Inside, he's screaming.]
[She frowns at him over the edge of her cup. She's seen that expression of his somewhere before, but she can't place it. The nostalgia is so heavy that it makes her chest feel tight, but still she can't figure out what it means.]
[Considering the circumstances, at least. It's not a lie - he is well in most ways. His heart, on the other hand...]
I missed you.
[He won't elaborate any further considering her prior order, unless she yells at him. His smile is there, soft and rooted in place, even if his eyes betray something else. He's careful not to let his emotions spill any further.]
Concerning - whatever it is that you're keeping from me.
[She doesn't put 2 and 2 together that what's causing him angst has anything to do with what he still wants to say. She's more concerned that he hasn't been able to handle the grief of the last week well.]
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No...I was the fool for thinking that -
[That I could escape the curse of my existence.]
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[And then she says, without thinking:]
It was my fault. I'd started it -
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[He pauses, still holding her to him.]
You mean to say you instigated the attack against you...?
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N-no...never mind, I can't remember. My mind is a mess.
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Come, I'll make you some tea.
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All right.
[She lets herself be led to wherever he chooses to take her inside the house.]
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Once she's sitting he busies himself with setting up the kettle and getting a cup and saucer out from the cupboard to set it before her.]
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She doesn't know if she should scream or cry or smash this vase to a million pieces. He would know that she'd be able to see the true meaning behind the decoration, but had he expected her to come back? Was this meant to be left in memorial or for her to see?
She stands up, the chair scraping across the floor in her haste, and both hands brace herself on the table as she glares across the room at him.]
What is this?! Why - why did you put these here?! [She looks from the vase back to him.]
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[He'd had his back turned as he'd been reaching for the sugar in the cupboard. The sound of the chair scraped against his ears as did the slap of hands against the wooden table. Immediately he spun around on his heels, staring wide-eyed at her, clearly startled, before he dropped his gaze to the table, visibly paling.
Oh. Right. He'd left those there, hadn't he?]
...It was the best I could do. [He starts off, voice even but quiet. His intention hadn't exactly been for her to see them. They were there mostly for memory's sake.] In lieu of a proper funeral.
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There's nothing more touching that he could possibly do, and she has no idea how to handle it.
She doesn't smash the vase and scream. She only sits back down, slumped over in the chair, and rests her forehead in one hand. This day really is getting to be too much to handle.]
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He's not sure what to do or say. All he wants to do is ease her suffering, more than anything.]
If they have offended you, I'll take them away immediately.
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[She exclaims before she has a chance to stop herself. Taking a deep breath, she continues. The tea is left untouched for the moment.]
It's only...a little overwhelming to see.
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I apologize...I should have been more considerate of your feelings. [It never crossed his mind that she might've seen them.] There are simply a lot of things I never thought I would have the chance of saying to you ever again.
The last thing I wish to do is overwhelm and stress you further, Vanessa.
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Then don't tell me. [She finally answers as she picks up her teacup and raises it to her lips.]
At least...not today.
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A look of torment is quickly hidden away as he forces a smile. Inside, he's screaming.]
When the moment is right, then.
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Are you okay?
[She hasn't even asked him yet, really.]
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[Considering the circumstances, at least. It's not a lie - he is well in most ways. His heart, on the other hand...]
I missed you.
[He won't elaborate any further considering her prior order, unless she yells at him. His smile is there, soft and rooted in place, even if his eyes betray something else. He's careful not to let his emotions spill any further.]
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Tell me the truth.
[She's not falling for that face, Edward.]
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[Shit.]
Concerning what?
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[She doesn't put 2 and 2 together that what's causing him angst has anything to do with what he still wants to say. She's more concerned that he hasn't been able to handle the grief of the last week well.]
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